


Ginger

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, Established Relationship, M/M, Trans Male Character, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 15:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Maedhros is a blob in bed with a visitor.





	Ginger

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for Nelyafinwe_maitimo1’s “trans male Maedhros being comforted/pampered on his period either by Finno (established relationship?)” request on [my dreamwidth](https://yeaka.dreamwidth.org/1190.html).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Silmarillion or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

His sheets are as soft as they come, and he has plenty of them, enough to bundle himself up so much that he’s unrecognizable, but he still can’t get _comfortable_. That’s an unusual feat for a bed in the house of Fëanáro—if Nelyafinwë were to make such a complaint before his brothers, even Turcafinwë would call him spoiled. But none of them have to go through what he does. The coarse towel tucked into either end of his mattress isn’t nearly so silken as his sheets. His pillow is covered in his messy hair. His bedding is starting to smell. It’s been three days since he’s had the will to bother bathing, and it’ll probably be another two before that changes. 

When he hears the next knock on his door, he assumes it’s one of his brothers. They must have come to pester him to join their training or something of the like. It’s too early for the servants to bring him dinner. Turned away and all cocooned in blankets, he gruffly calls, “Go away!”

The door clicks open. Nelyafinwë groans, guessing it must be Morifinwë or Curufinwë, because the others are less likely to so rudely ignore his wishes. Or perhaps it’s his father, come to scold him for allowing his body to get the best of him. Such lectures always annoy him, because he knows it’s all perfectly well to say _buck up_ in theory, but if his brothers or father suffered cramps so incredibly painful, they’d keep their mouths closed.

As hushed footsteps near his bed, Nelyafinwë barks out again, “Go _away_!”

“After I’ve come all this way?” A kind voice returns. “Surely you would not be that cruel, my Nelyo.”

Nelyafinwë tosses his head back, throwing just enough red hair aside to look over his shoulder. Not even for his beloved Findekáno will he roll over just yet—he’s finally found a position that doesn’t hurt quite so badly as the others. Findekáno smiles warmly at him, then bends down to brush a kiss over his cheek. Nelyafinwë’s pulse quickens, and for a moment, his mind is sufficiently distracted from his body.

It isn’t until Findekáno’s completely made his way around the bed that Nelyafinwë remembers and mutters, “Damn, our date—I am sorry, I do not know how I forgot...”

“Hush, it is fine,” Findekáno answers. He pulls off his boots at the side of the bed, evidently having kept them on through their cold marble halls. Once he’s out of them, he climbs nimbly onto the mattress, taking care to disturb Nelyafinwë as little as possible. Once seated, he finishes, “I should have known that it was time.”

“A dreadful thing to coordinate around. But...” Nelyafinwë hesitates, then begrudgingly pushes up on his arms, sighing, “I am a warrior. I will go—”

A hand lands on his forearm and gently pushes down. Nelyafinwë allows himself to be guided back into the bed’s embrace. Findekáno tells him, “Do not be silly. I accept you fully, whether in glory on the battlefield or sickness in your bed.”

Nelyafinwë smiles warmly, which is significant, because he’s done nothing but frown and grimace for the last three days. Findekáno reaches down to idly smooth some of the wrinkles from the blankets and asks, “Now, is there anything that I might do to help?”

Nelyafinwë shakes his head against the pillow. There’s nothing left that can be done save wait. He’s had heated satchels of water, different kinds of herbal teas, and even a massage from a helpful servant. None of it has done as much as he would like. Strangely, Findekáno’s sympathy and support is the most effective remedy. Nelyafinwë basks in that for a moment before deciding, “Stay with me, perhaps. Watch over me, and make sure those clueless brothers of mine leave me be.”

Findekáno laughs beautifully. His hand slides across the sheets to find Nelyafinwë’s, and he closes over it, threading their fingers together. The little squeeze he gives is exactly the distraction Nelyafinwë needs. Findekáno keeps holding onto it and uses the other hand to gently pet Nelyafinwë’s hair. The soothing presence does wonders. He’d thought he already spent as much time unconscious as his body would allow, but Findekáno’s loving touch relaxes him anew. 

He’s shortly asleep, and when he does wake up some time later, feeling marginally better, Findekáno is curled up with him, as perfect as could be.


End file.
